


just another afternoon at the beach

by Ashling



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, magical bureaucracy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-22
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-28 03:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18202874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashling/pseuds/Ashling
Summary: Officer Bondar is having a long, long day.





	just another afternoon at the beach

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveradept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/gifts).



> thanks silveradept for the great prompt!

Officer Bondar thought wistfully that could’ve been enjoying the beach as a civilian that day if only he’d scheduled vacation time better. His joints had been no good lately and it would’ve been a treat to just lie down on a towel, perfectly immobile save for the occasional blink or flip of a page. But instead, he was stuck between worse than a rock and a hard place--he was stuck between a mother wearing head-to-toe lululemon yoga wear on the left, and a college student with blue hair and maybe eight or nine piercings on the right. Intransigence didn’t even begin to describe it. 

“What if he couldn’t swim?” the mother was demanding, hoisting up her ten-year-old son, as if to demonstrate his helplessness. This point was somewhat dampened by the fact that she could barely lift him, and though he was dripping wet, he was wholly immersed in a Vine compilation on his phone, which made for interesting background noise.  _ (Stop! I coulda dropped my croissant!) _

“He can clearly swim,” said the college student. Standing quietly next to her, and watching the proceedings with great interest, was her cousin, who looked to be about the same age as the boy. She appeared to be trying to hide behind a curtain of dark hair, but said hair was so thin it wasn’t actually working. 

The mother put her son down with an aggrieved huff. “But if he couldn’t, he would be  _ dead. _ ”

“Someone would’ve yanked him out of the water,” the college student said.

“There’s not a single lifeguard in sight!” 

Probably his wife would bring along some of those fruity health drinks in a cooler, Officer Bondar thought. If the sun got too hot, he’d drape one big feathery wing over her and she’d grin up at him before returning to her book. 

The boy cranked up the volume on the phone.  _ FREESH AVOCA DOO,  _ the phone said, and cackled.

The student ignored this.  “There’s probably five or six people here that can lift him through the air with little effort. Myself included.”

The woman pulled her son a little closer. “That’s very comforting.”

“Ma’am, just because your kid’s a dick doesn’t mean I’d let him die.”

“Officer!”

“Mm?” Bondar said. He’d just gotten to the point in his fantasy where he and his wife were choosing which drive-through to pick for dinner. In-N-Out was a classic, but then again  he could go for some tacos.

“I said I’d like to file a report,” said the mother. 

“For fuck’s sake,” said the student. “I’m was intern at the San Francisco DPMU’s legal department last summer, and I can tell you that this case would be laughed out of court.”

The mother drew herself up, which had considerable effect, since she was all of seven feet, five inches. “Attempted murder? My ex-husband was a lawyer, and I’m sure he’d say the court would  take that very seriously indeed.”

Oh dear, thought Officer Bondar gloomily. He really ought to do something about this. Now it was going down to people’s résumés and  _ indeed _ and he almost certainly was going to be written up in someone’s blog one way or the other.

“Ma’am,” he said, “I’m not sure attempted murder would be the right way forward with this case.”

“What case?” said the student.

Suddenly the mother was quite pleasant and attentive. “Then what would you recommend, officer?” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Bondar said, over the huff of the student and the yell of  _ a knife! NO!  _ from the phone. “Very likely an inappropriate magic use, probably. She’s only little.”

“Assault with magic, surely.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong,” cut in the student. “It was your son who started it. He wouldn’t leave her alone. He was pulling her hair.”

“And for that, he deserves to die?”

“He got chucked in the water! That’s nothing! He’s so clearly not dead! He could not be any more clearly alive and breathing!”

For no reason at all, the boy in question chose that moment to look up and inquire, “Can we get some Chipotle?” 

“Later, sweetie. Listen, I think I’ve been more than patient, but if you can’t give my son justice, then I will be suing you for failure to do your duty and I will be suing you for emotional distress.”

“According to presidential guidelines co-signed by the head of the Department of Public Magic Use, you have exactly zero case. Because according to the Magic Quotient test that she took when she was three and again at five and ten, she’s got absolutely no magical abilities whatsoever.”

“Are you trying to tell me she lifted my son and threw him twenty feet into the ocean from pure muscle alone?”

“No,” the student said, with an air of smugness that Officer Bondar felt vaguely worried about. “She was praying.”

“What?” The mother gaped, and the grasp on her son loosened. Bored, he wandered over to a park bench and sat down for the third compilation of vines.

“Ancestor veneration,” said the student. “Has been practiced by our family for generations. Sometimes it has results! Sometimes it doesn’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“Sometimes you pray and you get an answer.”

Bondar had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do with this, but he had a feeling that the affair was about to reach its conclusion.

“First amendment, freedom of religion,” said the student. “Case closed.”

“That’s completely unacceptable.”

“And yet you’re going to have to accept it. Casey, let’s go. Casey?” 

All three turned and stared. The boy was sat on the bench, holding his phone at an angle so the girl, who was hanging from a tree by her tail, could get a good view.

“Mm?” said the girl, without looking up.

“It’s time for us to go.”

“Can he come home with us? I wanna show him my rock collection.”

“No,” said his mother. “We are going home. Alone.” Without further ado, she grabbed her son by the wrist, and then pulled him away, though not before the kid threw something over his  shoulder, something that gleamed oddly in the light of the summer evening.

“Excellent,” said Officer Bondar to the remaining two, distinctly Seeing a pretty rock and Not Seeing an illegal tracking rune of the fifteen-dollar kind that anyone could find at the farmer’s market. 

“Very helpful,” said the student, thought there wasn’t much resentment in it. “Come on, Casey, it’s time for dinner.”

“All right,” said the kid, and five seconds later Officer Bondar’s coast was clear.

Filled with relief and not a small amount of gratitude, he clambered back into his car and headed back to the station, and beyond that, his wife and hopefully a slice of mealworm meatloaf.


End file.
